I Beat the Odds_ From Homelessness, to the Blind Side, and Beyond - Michael Oher [47]
By my senior year, the scouts had started to notice me and the college coaches had started coming to see me play. So it was pretty clear that my grades mattered more than ever. And more than ever, folks stepped up to help me achieve my dream. Now, it wasn't just about helping me earn my high school diploma; it was about helping me reach the next level. At 6:30 every morning--an hour before school started--I would take an extra class of foundational study skills to help me make up for the gaps in my earlier education, and sometimes I would review my homework and lessons to make sure that I was staying on task and learning the material at the rate I needed to. This helped give me the learning tools and the confidence to take on the rest of my regular schedule.
But the teachers weren't just interested in helping to make me NCAA eligible. I could tell that they were teaching me because they wanted me to learn and because they knew I could. It was amazing to have that kind of support.
I've never struggled with the question of whether I could succeed; I only struggled with how. I was going to find a way, one way or another. I wasn't sure of the exact path, but I knew I wasn't going to give up until I'd achieved a better life for myself. The way that teachers and families at Briarcrest rallied around me finally showed me the missing piece in the puzzle. It was a busy and pretty crazy time, with a lot of moving pieces and a lot of complications.
And one family stepped up to the line to help me steer through it all.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Finding a Family
My transition into life at Briarcrest was a rewarding one, but it was still a transition. I was still stuck with the lack of a normal family and though several wonderful ones stepped up and let me stay in their homes, I knew that those arrangements couldn't be permanent.
So even as I stayed with the Franklins and Sparks and Saunders, I worried about where I could stay for good. I don't think that anyone really understood the degree to which I had nowhere else to go back to. I didn't talk about it much. I'm sure if anyone had known I was homeless, they would have called Child Protective Services believing they were acting in my best interest, and I would have found myself right back in foster care. That was the last thing I wanted, so I kept quiet.
I just tried to do my best, was respectful of the house where I was staying, and presented the best face that I could. The best way I knew how was to stay clean-shaven and always--always--ironed my clothes. I still do. It doesn't matter if it was a shirt for school or basketball practice, I never wanted to look sloppy, so I did laundry regularly and ironed out every last wrinkle. That was one thing I had noticed: The people at Briarcrest always looked neat. If I was going to be a part of their world, I was going to make sure I was neat, too. Over the past few years, I had used my money from selling newspapers to buy myself clothes and I had enough that still fit me, so I just did my best to take care of what I owned and prayed that they wouldn't wear out before I outgrew them.
In the meantime, strange things were happening at school.
One of the biggest differences between Briarcrest and all the other schools I'd attended was that lunch wasn't free. In my public schools I always made sure I was in school at lunchtime even if we didn't go to any classes during the day--at least I was guaranteed one meal a day. But at Briarcrest, everyone had to pay or pack. Free lunch wasn't an option; my scholarship just covered tuition. So suddenly I found out that the one meal a day I always knew I could count on was gone.
Again, it was a situation where if I had told anyone, I know they would have immediately helped me out. But I didn't, and I guess it just didn't occur to anyone that two or three dollars a day for lunch was more than I could afford. It was one